Stay With Me
by Braveandthebold
Summary: Five times Steve and Bucky want each other to stay.


Steve leads a pretty boring life, he knows.

But it's not like he has thousands of things to do. He's kind of unemployed at the moment, so this is really the only way he knows how to spend his free time. He was only supposed to stay in DC for another week or so before heading back to the tower in New York. The peace and quiet was nice, and it was good to get away from such a big city like New York.

Steve eyed the coffee table from his position at the stove. The table was a complete mess of open files and notes. The latest one from Natasha was still left closed. He didn't have the heart to open it just yet.

He turned back to the pot of pasta below him and continued stirring. He set the stove to a slow burn and stepped aside to chop up some onions. The rhythmic chopping and bubbling from the pot helped relax him and not focus all his attention on that darn file.

He's read hundreds of files already. What's one more gonna do to him right? While the info inside was useful, it still terrified him knowing what they did to _him_. He doesn't know if he can take any more. Reading about the copious amounts of torture, the blood, the nitty-gritty details, it was hard not to be terrified. They were probably more emotionally draining than his visits to Peggy.

He tries not to picture _him_ sitting there. Getting ready for another brain wipe, for another portion of his life to be taken away from him. For the ice, the coldness, the darkness.

His knuckles go white around the knife and he tries to steady his breathing. His hands are shaking as he cuts off the head of the onion.

He and Sam spent five weeks in Europe tracking down every single Hydra base that was left. All he can say is that there was a lot of torture equipment that may have been pummeled to pieces by the time they left. After numerous dead leads they returned to DC and Steve decided to retrace _his_ footsteps from their last encounter in the Potomac. And so far, nothing. Just more dead leads. They had some good ones in Europe, but in the end it didn't amount to much. So now Steve decided that the best approach was to let Buc—

The knife made an unattractive clanging noise as Steve fumbled with it on the counter. There was a tiny trickle of red seeping out from his thumb. He brought it up to his mouth and sucked it while he searched the drawers for a band-aid.

_Knock, knock_.

He popped his head up and looked for the source of the noise.

_Knock, knock_, _knock._

It was coming from the front door. He stood up slowly and turned the stove off. It might not be anything. Probably just Sam or some kind of solicitor. Still, he picked up his shield and tiptoed toward the door. He peered into the peephole and almost dropped his shield in surprise. He stood back and closed his eyes, breathing slowly. When he re-opened them nothing changed, and the person was still standing outside his door.

Steve set his shield down against the wall and reached out his hand, then paused.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock._

He took a deep breath and brought his shaky hand closer. He grasped the doorknob and turned it slowly, only opening the door partway.

The man before him was no different from the man on the helicarrier. He still looked tired, but less tense and confused and a little more calm. He had some aftershave on his face, but his hair was neatly combed and pulled back in a loose ponytail.

The man— no, Bucky.

Bucky was here.

Bucky was standing outside his apartment.

Bucky didn't want to kill him. At least not yet.

Steve was visibly shaking at this point. He balled up his fists to try to calm down.

"Bucky," his voice croaked out.

The man nodded and looked at Steve carefully, as if waiting for his reaction.

"It's… you're…" Bucky raised his eyebrow. "You're here," Steve finally breathed out.

"Yeah, I'm here," Bucky said quietly. He scratched his head and looked at the ground. "Can I come in? If you don't mind, I mean—"

"No!" The brunette jumped and looked back up with an almost hurt expression.

"No, I mean, no, yes of course! Yes, yes you can come in. Please." Steve opened the door and stepped aside. Bucky cautiously stepped into the room and kept looking at Steve the whole time. His gaze was so intense that Steve had to avoid his eyes and focus on something else.

"This is… nice," Bucky observed.

"Uh, yeah, SHIELD got it refurbished and everything, you know after—" He mentally kicked himself. Of course Bucky wouldn't forget what happened here. It was him who destroyed the apartment and gunned Fury down. That wasn't something he would forget so easily. But Bucky didn't seem to notice his mistake and just continued looking around.

He noticed the pot on the stove and faced Steve. "Were you making something?"

Steve walked over and turned the burner on again, the bubbling noises coming back to life. "Pasta. You want some?"

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it. He bit his lip and looked at the pasta.

"Buck?"

He whipped his head up at the sound of his name. His arms were crossed defensively over his chest and it almost seemed as if he deliberately made himself smaller. Steve was very tempted to wrap him up in piles and piles of blankets.

"You can say yes or no. I won't get offended if you refuse," Steve made sure to add. The last thing he wanted was for Bucky to feel bad about refusing pasta.

Bucky looked at the pasta again and nodded. "Yeah, sure… sure I'll have some."

"Okay," Steve responded softly. He made his way over and went back to stirring and chopping.

He heard Bucky shuffle up next to him and almost shivered at the heat radiating from his close proximity. It wasn't uncomfortable or anything, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of Bucky's presence and felt more self-conscious of what he was doing. He was really trying not to cut his finger again.

Once he was done he drained the pasta and poured it into two bowls along with the sauce and meat. He brought the bowls over to the counter and handed a fork to Bucky, who took it hesitantly. Steve has to admit, this probably wasn't the safest idea. It was possible Bucky could stab him to death or gut his eyes out or even worse: _cannibalism_. He shook his head. Maybe he needed to lay off Netflix for a while.

They ate in silence, the only noise coming from the metallic scraping of their forks.

He couldn't help watching Bucky from the corner of his eyes. Every so often Bucky would pause, look guiltily at the pasta before him, and then shovel it into his mouth without a second thought. It was almost like he felt bad about eating. Like he wasn't allowed to and would get in trouble for engaging in such an act. Steve slowly brought his hand up and saw Bucky still at the motion. He left his hand in the air for a while, waiting to see if it was okay. When nothing happened he gently placed it on Bucky's back.

He waited again before rubbing his hand in small circles.

"Hey, it's okay. You're allowed to eat, it's just pasta. You're allowed to be… human." Steve grimaced at his choice of words. Obviously the former (former?) assassin was human, but he probably felt more like a robot after years of reprogramming and torture and—

He closed his eyes and reminded himself to breathe, willing the pictures from the files and the memories of the torture rooms to go away. He looked at Bucky and saw him appear more relaxed at the soothing motions across his back.

"That was… good," Bucky said after they finished eating. He set his spoon down in the empty bowl.

Steve smiled and brought his hand up to rest on Bucky's neck. "Good, good. I'm glad you liked it. I can make more for you if you, you know, decide to, er, stay."

Bucky tilted his head up. "You want me to stay?"

Steve averted his gaze to the empty bowl. "I mean, only if you want to. I would never force you or anything. It's your choice I mean I can't… I can't force you to stay, obviously."

"Why?"

Steve tightened his grip on Bucky's neck at the question. "Why, um, well because I just… can't?"

"So you don't want me to stay?"

"What? No, no that's not what I meant! Um, how do I explain this?" Steve drummed his fingers against the counter. "Forcing you and wanting you to stay are two different things. I can't force you because it's not really, er, right. If you don't want something I can't exactly force it on you. But I would very much like you to stay because uh, I… I kind of, want to help you? I mean I know you've been through a lot! It's been tough and I'd like for you to let me help you. Unless you don't want me to then that's a different story! Uh—"

"Steve." The blonde stopped his rambling and met Bucky's gaze.

"I want you to want me to stay." Bucky gave a small smile and knocked his knee against Steve's.

"Uh, yes. I do want.. you to stay. Yeah uh… yeah." Steve blushed at his stammering. Bucky huffed a laugh and scooted his seat closer. Steve felt his cheeks heat up more and coughed. "I should uh, I should clean up now."

"Okay," was all Bucky said. He continued to stare at Steve as he cleaned up and washed the dishes. Steve could feel Bucky's eyes following him, almost burning a hole straight through his back. When Steve turned around Bucky was right in front of him.

The supersoldier jumped back and stumbled into the counter. Bucky just stepped closer, staring him down with a certain glint in his eyes. He didn't stop, not even when their chests were touching and their faces were no more than a centimeter apart. Bucky inserted his knee between Steve's legs and placed his hands on the counter, forcing Steve to lean back. He winced at the counter edging into his back. He was completely trapped underneath with no way to escape.

"Steve," Bucky whispered.

The blonde gulped. "Y-yeah Buck?"

"Is it okay if I..?" The soldier held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers.

"Uh, sure?" Steve said uncertainly. He suddenly felt the cold metal touch his face, dragging across his cheek and feeling every part of his bone structure. The hand left itself cupping the area where his neck and face met. He could feel Bucky's breath on his face, the smell of spaghetti and meatballs on his lips.

Steve swallowed and tried to remind himself to breathe. He gripped the countertop's edge until his knuckles were searing and he was pretty sure he was going to break the edge right off.

There was no threatening look on Bucky's face, no trace of the Winter Soldier coming out and stabbing Steve to death with a fork. Bucky was just curious.

A knock at the door startled Steve and he almost knocked his forehead against Bucky's. Now who was it?

He looked back to see Bucky had tensed up a little, his jaw tight around the corners and his eyes held a steely look in them. "Bucky?" Steve asked hesitantly. He tugged at Bucky's shirt sleeve. "Hey, I'm sure it's nothing. I'll just, uh…" He tried to look for a way to slip out but Bucky was still hovering above him. Eventually Bucky slowly brought his hands back and watched Steve as he made his way to the front door.

He cracked it open slightly so Bucky wouldn't be seen from the kitchen.

"Hey man," Sam greeted, "So I thought we'd watch The Karate Kid tonight. It's a classic, and when you told me you haven't watched it yet I figured now would be a good time. And I've brought some beer so no need to go buy any."

He shouldered his way past Steve and he panics for a moment.

"Wait, Sam—!"

He sHHealskdjg;lkasjdgHe spins his head around to signal for Bucky to hide, but he wasn't in the kitchen anymore. In fact, it seemed like all traces of his presence was gone.

Sam raises a questioning eyebrow.

Steve tries to think of a good cover but he's never been the best liar. "I mean wait, Sam! I have to, uh, clean my kitchen! Kind of a mess right now." He grimaced internally and hoped to god Sam would buy it.

"Okay?" Sam says confused. "I'll just—wait over there then?" He points to the living room area. He gives Steve a weird look and makes his way over.

Steve can't tell if he's more relieved or disappointed.

* * *

><p>If someone asked, he wouldn't be able to tell them a single thing about the movie. He's too distracted the whole time, and he gets a few puzzled looks from Sam. Knowing him, Sam has probably figured it all out by now. He still leaves without mentioning anything though, so Steve figures he's in the clear.<p>

He has no idea where Bucky went, or if he's even coming back. Still, he doesn't seem too surprised when he walks into his bedroom and finds Bucky sitting on his bed.

"I thought you left," is the first thing out of Steve's mouth.

Bucky shrugs. "Nowhere to go to."

Steve bites the inside of his cheek and shifts from foot to foot. He has so many questions, but he knows it's not the right time.

Steve closes the door and winces at the slight creaking noise it makes. He slips off his shirt and once again, he can feel Bucky's eyes following his every move. He tries not to let it bug him as he takes out a spare set of clothes for the other man.

"Hey, Buck do you—"

He turns around half-way and somehow Bucky has managed to sneak up on him again. He's watching him with a great intensity, eyes roaming over every inch of Steve's torso. He holds his breath as he sees Bucky's hand reach out and gently touch one of his scars. He's not sure where this one came from, just like the other numerous scars on his body. There's only a couple he really cares about: the ones Bucky gave him that day on the helicarrier.

Bucky's hands run all over his stomach and waist, tracing each pattern of scarred tissue. Steve shivers and feels something hot growing in his chest. His whole body burns as Bucky's fingers crawl over his skin.

Bucky suddenly grabs his waist and Steve yelps as he's pulled forward. Somehow they've ended up on the bed with Steve crouched on top and Bucky lying beneath him. He can feel his face heat up at their new positions.

"Um." Steve blinks down at Bucky.

"Stay," Bucky says firmly. He furrows his brow and tightens his grip on Steve's waist. "Please, stay." His voice isn't as firm this time and sounds a bit watery, and there's a look of slight panic on his face.

Steve lowers and adjusts himself until he's lying comfortably next to Bucky. He brings out his left hand and places it on Bucky's back, then pulls him closer so Steve can rest his head on top of his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispers.

"Please, stay," Bucky repeats like a broken CD. He's clutching at Steve like a life-line, like Steve is his only connection to the real world and to who he really is.

"Of course Bucky. Of course."

They remain that way the whole night. Steve tries to ignore the tears creeping out of his own eyes.

* * *

><p>Bucky will come and go sometimes. It's totally random too, so Steve can't exactly keep track of how many days he's gone and when he'll be back. He just hopes that whenever he opens the door Bucky will be there and hopefully not all bloodied and banged up (it's happened more than once already).<p>

The team doesn't question him when he decides to extend his stay in DC. They figure he still has some last minute things to finish up with the collapse of SHIELD and disbandment of Hydra. Natasha only gives him that look that says she knows he's lying cause he sucks at lying but she'll let it go for now. Sam gives a similar look but just shrugs and pretends he's not the slightest bit happy that Steve gets to stay a little longer.

Steve sighs at his fridge. It's been a week, which is the longest Bucky's been gone for. He hates waiting. Most of all he hates not knowing. It's not that he minds if Bucky wants to go out and do his own thing. He needs to find himself again, and Steve can only be there as a source of support. He has to let Bucky make his own decisions and figure things out on his own.

But the least Bucky could do is call and check in every once in a while. It would really ease Steve's soul and stop him from worrying over every little thing.

He closes the fridge door and jumps at the sight of Bucky. He clutches his chest and closes his eyes to calm his heart down. He really needs to teach Bucky not to do that.

"Hey, welcome back. I didn't hear you come in," Steve says once he's got his bearings together.

Bucky doesn't say anything. That happens sometimes too. Some days Bucky won't talk, and other days he won't shut up. Steve doesn't know which he prefers.

But at the moment, he definitely prefers a talkative Bucky. He's got this vacant look in his eyes, like he's not fully there. Steve tries to ignore the small traces of blood splatters along the hem of his shirt, only focusing in on Bucky's face. He looks a bit dirty, his hair is a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes say he's thoroughly exhausted.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Steve decides. He pauses, then hesitantly takes Bucky's hand and leads him to the bathroom. He turns on the faucet and lets the water run while he concentrates on carefully stripping off Bucky's clothes. Steve is so good at keeping his face neutral now as he takes note of the new scars along Bucky's torso and chest. He's got a nasty-looking gash along the underside of his forearm, but it's nothing a little antiseptic can't fix.

Steve grasps Bucky's shoulders and guides him into the tub, then pushes him down so he can sit. Bucky brings his knees up and hugs them as Steve pours a bucket of water over his head. He gently scrubs and kneads small circles into his scalp.

"There were so many," Bucky whispers randomly. Steve's arms freeze in the air, the bucket of water only half tilted. He swallows down a lump in this throat before slowly pouring it over Bucky.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asks. He takes the bar of soap and slides it along Bucky's body. He doesn't reply back, but he does shiver from the feel of the slippery soap on his skin.

Steve's about to put the soap back in the dish when Bucky falls to the side and leans his whole body into Steve. Luckily his reflexes are fast and he just manages to envelope Bucky in a full embrace. He doesn't even care if his clothes are getting wet.

"Don't go," Bucky whimpers. "Please, don't leave me." He balls his fist up in Steve's shirt sleeve.

Steve can practically feel his heart break as he holds onto Bucky with all his might. The man is shivering, so he has to strain his arm without letting go of Bucky to grab the towel on the rack. Steve wraps him up and holds Bucky tighter, refusing to let go even after the shivering dies down.

* * *

><p>Steve wakes up to feel a heavy weight on his chest. Not to mention incredibly warm too. He looks down and sees a rat's nest of brown hair all over him. He can't help smiling fondly and gently runs his hand through Bucky's hair.<p>

He keeps doing that until he feels Bucky shift under him and glances up to meet Steve's eyes. He looks a bit out of it from the sleep. There's a moment of alarm in his eyes as he tries to remember where he is, who he is, what is he doing here exactly. But once he focuses in on Steve his eyes widen and soften out.

"S-Steve?" He says hoarsely.

"Hey Buck, morning," Steve murmurs.

Bucky releases a shuddering breath and lays his head back down.

"You're okay, Buck. You're okay." Steve rubs his hands in circles along his back, kneading out all the knots and points of tension in his muscles.

He feels a puff of air against his chest as Bucky lets out another breath.

They stay like that for a while until Bucky lifts his head up and bites his lip. He doesn't say anything, but Steve can tell from the look that he wants something. It seems voicing his needs is something he hasn't quite learned yet.

"Do you—do you want breakfast, maybe?" Steve tries.

Bucky scrunches up his face and says, "Yes," very quietly.

"Okay, yeah. That's fine. That's okay." For some reason Steve feels over-whelmed all of a sudden. He counts to ten in his head until he can get his thoughts together. Once he's sure he's not going to freak out and have his own panic attack, he sits up half-way only to fall back down again.

"Uh, Buck?"

The weight of his head still remains on his chest.

"Can you, just..?" Bucky looks at the blonde helplessly. He doesn't know how to finish the sentence.

Steve sucks in a breath and counts to ten again.

"Yeah, Buck," he says in a scratchy voice. "Yeah, that's… yeah."

They miss breakfast, and normally Steve would be starving but he's surprisingly okay with that.

* * *

><p>"Am I going to get in trouble?"<p>

Steve almost drops his pencil and looks up from his drawing. Bucky's face is set in a tight frown and his hands are folded on his lap.

"Um, is that a question or…?" Obviously it's a question, but Steve can't seem to figure out what it is exactly Bucky is asking.

Three months have passed, and Bucky is significantly better than the first time he showed up at Steve's door. It's taken a lot of work, but it's been so worth it. The therapy was long and arduous, but it really has helped Bucky out a lot. The team has welcomed him with open arms, and although he's not an official part of the Avengers yet (something about a physical exam?) he's still considered one of them.

Bucky is a lot more talkative and open about his feelings with Steve, and he doesn't feel as guilty anymore about his past crimes. SHIELD, now led by Phil, has managed to clear him of all crimes as long as he commits to therapy and helps out with the Avengers in any way he can. But it seems he's still not quite comfortable about his past life.

Steve bites his lip and sets his drawing down. It's only a rough sketch. Just Bucky sprawled lazily on the couch in the main room of the tower. He looks peaceful, but this sudden question has broken all that.

"SHIELD has cleared you, you know that right?" Steve asks slowly.

"Yeah, yeah I know." Bucky looks down at his lap. "But is that really okay? Is it really okay to just…?"

Steve thinks about this before carefully choosing his reply. "I think its okay, in the sense that you won't be branded as a criminal or anything. But I guess it's hard for you to accept that part of yourself." He scoots down the couch and takes both Bucky's hands in his. It almost reminds him of that day in the bathroom, a shivering wet Bucky curled up in Steve's arms and refusing to let go.

"You're not the same Bucky Barnes anymore, I get that. You're different, and we're all okay with that. _I'm_ okay with that," Steve adds for emphasis. "I'll always accept everything about you Bucky, because you're important to me. I'd rather get to know you all over again than lose you to god knows what. And god knows I could never take that. Not for a third time at least."

Bucky looks between Steve and his hands over his. His face is so earnest and determined. He really does mean every word of it. He lets his head drop onto Steve's shoulder and curls in on him.

"I'll always be here," Steve whispers into his ear. Bucky shivers at the warmth from Steve's voice.

After a while he pushes himself up and the two men smile at each other. Steve gives a crooked smile but frowns as something occurs to him. In one quick swift motion Steve leans forward.

Bucky has to blink a few times before he realizes Steve is kissing him. When Steve pulls back he's looking at Bucky with a shy look and a blush on his face. He won't admit it but he's wanted to do that for a while now.

"I… I'll always be here," Steve repeats again. "So you don't—you don't have to worry about me leaving you or anything."

This time Bucky finds himself blushing and he has to duck his head. God this is so embarrassing.

"Uh, thanks," he says bashfully.

Steve laughs and kisses his forehead. Steve does stay, he always stays. He never has left Bucky's side, not in 1945 and certainly not now in 2014.


End file.
